Passing Through The Valley of the Dolls
by Wicked Calliope
Summary: Our favorite angsting Hiro decides to run away after some courtesy encouragement from Ryuichi. [Written with Sliefoxx]


Partial inspiration from the movie 'Dreaming With The Fishes'. Check it out.

All those things that you're not supposed to want

you want from me ...

And it's more than I can take

It's just about to break

all these feelings that we fake

On this roller coaster ride

It's going to collide

with those secrets that we hide (we hide)

Goodbye

Oleander--

Passing Through the Valley of the Dolls

Valley of the Doll-

Any denotation in his life was hidden in a painfully unaccommodating fashion. His soul was not twisted, his mind was not demented, and nothing hinted otherwise beyond his own self-doubt of existence. He was what most considered normal; leading his not so simplistic life that appeared to hold no meaning beyond breathing and going through the motions of living. He was there to clean up the spills as they were created, then comfort whoever the clumsy fool was that had made the mess and say that all was right.

Wether it had been taking care of his older brother or offering an impatient shoulder to cry on when his best friend decided all was wrong with the world; the kind disposition deep down inside was always there to take care of whomever asked for consoling. Doing so for such a drawn amount of time gave him no sense of identity, and Hiro doubted that the entire meaning of his presence was to act as a maid to others' misfortunes. Hiro had never once considered himself a martyr, and yet came to realizing one common day that he had failed to truly achieve anything that was of value to himself, because he constantly placed others' needs before his own desires.

Bad Luck was Shuuichi's second meaning in life after his boyfriend, Ayaka had been a fling compared to genuine romance, and schooling had always been his parent's first importance in their fruitless attempt to refrain him from walking down the road of artistic perdition. What had been his want? To start a family with a pretty wife? Ah, the traditional Japanese dream; to succumb to ritual and keep the nice clean face he still had a chance of saving, if only he would give up his silly notions of riding the rest of his life on stardom.

Fame was Shuuichi's notion. Music had never been more than a serious hobby, something to waste Time when it was there to be taken. While Hiro was proudly aware that Bad Luck had branded their mark in the industry, making music was not his life intention. Money was not an issue for he had more than enough of that: it was merely a question of what he wanted to achieve in his time to satisfy that empty hole that begged and harassed to be filled. This was a question he had no concept on how to answer despite his deepest mind probing. During similar moments of pondering the only rejoinder that seemed to allow itself to be extracted had already been fulfilled, and now the young man had no idea what his -selfish- wish could be or had been at some point.

An answer is what he was attempting to discover within himself as Hiro sat atop the new fifteen level skyscraper that was NG-Record's rooftop. This was a place of solitude for the guitar player; where he could sit above all else and have no interruptions while musing his profound thoughts.

'As you seem to be the only one to think of such things ...' Hiro reflected as he gazed into the sparkling night lined Tokyo. There were more stories in that single city then one fable spinner could tell, and he could skim over half of them in a single glance without hearing a word. Hiro's was only one, and that made him feel very insignificant in the overall view of things.

The auburn-haired man stretched his legs forward from his sitting position on the cement ground and accompanied his straining calf muscles with the popping of his knuckles. The time was relatively late; the band had finished practice more than two hours ago at 8:00 but his small apartment had not sounded very appealing. Instead, Hiro had silently vouched for his favorite reverie perch and silenced his cell phone so he could indulge in the opportune quiet.

He released a heavy, melancholy sigh and titled his chin downward to stare at his all-knowing knees while brownish locks fell over his shoulders that refused to stay in place since the wind faced his back. The breeze sent chilled quivers down his spine, making the man shudder and return his legs to his chest for warmth. The black guitar case that sat next to him caught his eye, as he settled for not placing any thought into consideration for a brief passing moment. Silver clasps held Hiro's attention and he looked at them intently as though they held answers that his knees could not offer. Unsure of how long he remained in his unthinking posture, the only noise that broke such focused concentration was the abrasive creak of the metal door behind him.

He winced at the unwelcome sound and turned to see the intruder whose silhouette was traced by the hallway lights behind it. A pair of bright blue eyes widened at someone having been there to greet them, and one arm pulled a dulled pink-something closer to the silhouette's body as the other relaxed on the door frame it held open.

"Hiro ... san ...?" A somewhat childish voice murmured, not without a bit of puzzlement lacing its tone.

"Good evening Sakuma-san." The named welcomed as he forced a bit of smile to plaster his face. He hadn't thought that anyone would come to the roof so late at night, but he could not very well tell his acquaintance to bug off. Ryuichi tilted his head to one side to study the falsified smile before he offered a grin of his own and proceeded to skip his merry way to Hiro's designation.

"Aren't you hurting from being all scrunched up like that?" The hyper singer inquired as he squatted in an equally uncomfortable appearing position next to Hiro's right side. The guitarist's lips twitched upwards in amusement before he shook his head and looked forward once again. Ryuichi pouted and raised his pink bunny to converse with. "Hiro-kun's not talking Kumagoro. Maybe he's sleepy no da? Or could it be he's mad at Ryuichi? He called me 'Sakuma' after all ..." His bright eyes began to turn into two giant wibble shaped things.

It took a moment for Hiro to realize his senior probably could not handle long periods of quiet very well. "Oh no Sakuma-san!" He said apologetically and then weakly smiled, "I'm just not very talkative right now ..." The watery pools drained themselves and were replaced with slightly calmer sapphire depths.

They sat in the serene silence for the moment being, each aware of the other's presence through proximity alone as they both were content to flounder in their own thoughts without a single word passed between. Ryuichi knew when to speak, and when chatter was truly unwelcome. Normally Hiroshi seemed perfectly willing to assist in indulging his eccentric habits, but tonight was different; tonight Hiro appeared to be so involved and convinced of something that he looked as though he might take action with any resolution made forthwith. The older singer could read people better than mere strangers realized.

Hiro was probably trusting him to understand that he did not wish to be bothered or disturbed from his meditative state, and Ryuichi respected that ... to a certain degree. Being the curious creature that he was, Ryuichi quickly began analyzing what he knew of Hiro's psych, to attempt the discovery of what could possibly be bothering such nice person so that he appeared as though somebody had dropped a frog down his back: somewhat unsure of what to do.

When one has an amphibious creature in their clothing, the logical and natural reaction is to remove it as quickly as possible. The real question lies in how to do so without -hurting- the poor, confused croaker, and how to cease it's moving without killing it. Someone or something is bound to get wounded, or at the very least disgusted because of the notion of touching. The frog surely doesn't want to be grasped by nasty human hands, and most humans try to avoid contact with animals lacking fur. Hiro probably didn't have any qualms about the actual handling; it was how to do so without wounding the frog.

Ryuichi released an imperceptible breath from his quirked lips as he came to his observant conclusion. 'He's thinking of Shuu-chan ...' That was most certainly amusing. The brown-haired man fought the urge to laugh sardonically with the knowledge that Hiro was -still- placing his best friend's possible reactions before his own needs. What those needs were, Ryuichi couldn't possibly know; but he was familiar enough with the guitarist to resolve that this was assuredly the case.

"Hiro-kun ..." He said quietly, though loud enough to know he had his audience's attention. He kept his eyes focused on N-G's air conditioner which peeked from the cement rooftop in a giant mass of aluminum sitting to his right, and glittered with whatever city lights and sparklies it saw fit to capture and desired to reflect. "Shuuichi doesn't need you to wipe his ass for him anymore."

Hiroshi's eyes widened disbelievingly at the back of Ryuichi's omniscient head. The older man said not a word, mostly for dramatic effect, and to allow the stunned boy to process that he indeed, knew all.

"He has Yuki-san to do that now!" The abruptly perky singer added after plenty of time had been given for Hiro's confused contemplating. He would have told Kumagoro to stop snickering at the silly expression on Hiro's face, but that would have roused suspicions at the bunny's mischievous mocking.

The still astonished guitarist couldn't quite persuade his mouth to form coherent sentences. "How ... when ..." He frowned deeply, "What?"

Ryuichi finally faced the other with a saddened smile, and shifted so he sat on his rear and with the stuffed rabbit buried in his chest. "Shuuichi is not as shiny as he used to be, is he?" The tiny man stated more than asked. Hiro remained silent, assuming there might be explanation for Ryuichi's presumptuous declarations. He wasn't sure wether to be annoyed, impressed or intrigued at how easily the other male had perceived his mood, but his companion seemed to possess some words that were most likely worth paying attention to.

"Yuki-san made him not as shiny as he used to be..." Ryuichi frowned disapprovingly to no one in particular, "But all Shuuichi can see now is him. He doesn't need you anymore. Right?"

Hiro nodded slowly, and wondered where the conversation was going.

The singer stretched his rabbit before him, and absently rubbed an abused pink ear. "Maybe that's why your so sad. Nobody's happy when they have nothing to take care of. Wether it's a person or business, you have to find what makes you want to take care of it over and over again." He held Kumagoro close. "Otherwise you'll be unhappy if you're only walking mindlessly with nothing to do, and you'll feel as though you have black hole somewhere inside."

Hiro chewed his lip thoughtfully, and looked once again to the city night lights that seemed to no longer beam quite as brightly as before. He felt a small hand touch his shoulder gently, obtaining his observation again.

"You're still shiny Hiro-kun!" Ryuichi chirped and encouraged with a bright smile, "Don't let yourself get rubbed dull like Shuu-chan!" and he then stood speedily to bounce away near the edge of the roof's side railing.

'Shuuichi isn't dull ... he's just shadowed ...'

Hiro listened to the childish singing traveling around the square rooftop, again content to sit and attempt to think. Shuuichi was shadowed, but happy. Perhaps Ryuichi was correct: he had to find whatever made him want it repeatedly. It was an over simplified concept however, made abridged by a sentence that held more meaning once contemplated.

'What I want ...' The young man thought dryly, 'No one has bothered with that question except Yuuzi ...'

Yuuzi was blithely content with his jobless, bachelor state and always had been. He was indestructibly joyful in a cheerful, moronic, Shuuichi sort of way and he didn't seem to desire much more than what he owned now. But why? What was it he had said almost three years ago?

'_Nobody can be unhappy doing what they love.' _

For Yuuzi that apparently was living see-sawed between 'lower class, without an income' and 'barely surviving.'

'What do I want ...?'

Hiro stared at a small black beetle with smooth, reflecting wings as it scuttled its way across the ground. Singing still traveled throughout the air, the source of the loud sound on its fourth revolution around the long-haired guitarist and the insect. The tiny bug paused its traveling, and appeared to be deciding wether to continue its perpendicular trek or to veer from its set direction. After much consideration it chose to turn left, and panicked when it bumped against Hiro's intimidating sneaker. The intimidating one frowned, and hugged his folded legs close together as he weighed a few past events involving his pink-haired friend and a certain stoic author.

' What do I want to do? I want to get away from it all. Just leave and say 'screw you all'. I'm tired of everything; tired of being the self-sacrificing good guy.' He thought angrily, 'Tired of all the melodrama and tired of the same people making the same mistakes then coming to me. I'm tired of everyone expecting me to accept everything that comes with a smile ...'

Hiro clenched his hands against his upper arms and buried his face in his knees in a fit of frustration. "I want to take a break ... I'm tired of sitting on the sidelines ..." He muttered in the warm darkness of his own thighs. "I want it to be about me for once."

"The problem with a devoted audience ..." A soft voice murmured beside him. Hiro started, and looked up to see once again, a sedated Ryuichi smiling at him with more insightful words on his tongue. "The problem is that sometimes the performers don't realize the audience was looking until they've gone." He said gently, and his smile brightened in his obvious attempt to succor his friend's fluxing moods.

"Until they've gone?" Hiro repeated quietly, somewhat bemused, and his mouth curled upward as he fleetingly considered the statement. "No one would notice if I left." The auburn-haired man established more to himself.

Ryuichi momentarily appeared as though he might possess more empathetic comments to say, but instead he grinned and demonstrated Kumagoro, who apparently had been hidden, for Hiro to face. "Kuma-chan says everyone would be sad if you disappeared!" He stated perkily, and promptly shoved the poor bunny's ear inside his mouth to be slobbered upon.

Hiro chose to remain silent and allowed Ryuichi to conclude what he wanted about whatever the older man thought the situation to be. Almost anything the guitarist said aloud would probably be contradicted, and his own opinions about himself did not seem to matter to the singer in the least, so there was no sense in trying to support his sentiments ... what -was- Ryuichi pointing at?

Hiro's eyes followed the specifying finger that pointed in something's general direction. When he found himself staring at his own guitar case, he looked back to the strange man who was still busily watching the unmoving black mass.

"Gui - tar ..." He pronounced carefully, unsure of what exactly it was Ryuichi wanted.

The bunny-holding one turned pleading orbs to the puzzled boy, "Will you play something?" He asked in a microscopic voice, and Kumagoro also participated in begging as his arms were squeezed together.

"I suppose ..." The red-head mumbled reluctantly, and reached for his case to pull out the smooth light-brown acoustic guitar hidden there. Hiro stretched his again cramping legs, laid the arch over one, and grasped the neck with his left hand. "What do you want me to play?" He asked as he preoccupied himself with tweaking his gut strings.

Ryuichi flipped himself so he lay on his stomach with Kumagoro perched on his head. "Hmm ..." He hummed thoughtfully, "Something quiet." His loyal stuffed animal performed a somersault and landed face-down on Ryuichi's stretched out back. The hyper man propped his chin in his hands and waited for his song attentively while kicking his legs up and down against the pavement.

... strum ...

'Something quiet? What do I know ..?' Hiro frowned at the wooden hole looking up at him as he attempted to find something simple and quiet to draw from his instrument.

...dun dun ...

"Hmm hmm ..."

Hiro glanced beside himself and saw a tranquil and focused Ryuichi still listening to his disorganized plucking. He allowed the singer's absent murmurs steer his own melody for a few extended moments before finally settling on a song he felt was appropriate for the atmosphere that had been made. As Hiro sang with his own talents he allowed the emotions engulfing him that night to filter into the beautifully twisted web of twangs and strums he was being made to create through his own fingers.

_It's a bit early in the midnight hour for me_

_to go through all the things that I wanna be._

_I don't believe in everything I see._

_You know I'm blind so why'd you disagree?_

_Take me away_

_'Cause I just don't wanna stay_

_and the lies you make me say_

_are gettin' deeper everyday._

_These are crazy days but they make me shine_

_time keeps rolling by_

_All around the world._

_You gotta spread the word_

_tell me what you heard_

_It's gonna be a better day._

_All around the world_

_You gotta spread the word_

_tell me what you heard_

_you know it's gonna be okay. _

Everything was all right; the following days after his and Ryuichi's inspiring conversation, a sense of calm overwhelmed the young man whose questions had been bothering him to no end. He flawlessly performed his routines, acting as though the much needed emotional purging had not taken place and bringing no unwanted suspicion upon himself. However, his habits were not quite as habitual any longer; a small change that non would have noticed unless they were profusely aware of which Internet sites he happened to always check. With his e-mail, with his fan sites and chat-rooms and perhaps a bit of the inappropriate had been added: his search of a ticket to leave the country.

Pricing, dates; they hardly mattered so long as his exit was through the air and with light baggage accompanying him. Why he had proceeded to buy two was beyond even himself, but it had seemed a wise idea at the time. So now Hiro possessed two plane tickets to escape, and a booking for first class travel that he had no real plans to follow through with. He quickly discovered he preferred not to think about the small steps he had already taken toward his future disappearance; two months was more than enough time to convince himself that it was an unwise idea.

The only one that appeared to suspect Hiro of out of the ordinary thoughts, was K himself. He noted during the weeks that the guitarist seemed distracted during practice and recording more frequently than ever had been normal. His inattentiveness was not to the degree that it affected his playing negatively, but it was noticeable when it took multiple tries to maintain his attention for a greater amount of time than five minutes. Strange indeed; and K had mentioned the subject twice before Hiro forced his acting to be more convincing than ever. With the exception of spacyness, the troubled young man passed through the bovine months as indifferently as he could muster.

November finally rolled around; the weather was still jumping between the thirty and fifty Fahrenheit degree range, and raining relentlessly. Hiro woke to his digital clock glaring accusatory bright red numbers: 8:00. The alarm buzz whirred with the insistence of a bee in his groggy mind, and it took for the numbers to be screaming at him: 8:07, for it to register that today was the day.

He moved mechanically as he readied himself for the next elongated hours; checking to make sure all was in its place, and double checking in his mind that all important business had been taken care beneath K's attentive nose. Inevitably, Hiro found himself standing in the center of his cleaned apartment with a suitcase and backpack beside him, car keys in one hand and an envelope with two surreptitious sheets of paper inside.

'Now or never.' He said to himself,

and hoisted his luggage to haul to his car.

Notage:

Song by Oasis on the 'Be Here Now' album. If you want to hear a midi here's a link: http/ 


End file.
